Review/Rap; Disposable Heroes of Hiphoprisy

By JON PARELES

Published: March 15, 1992

The Disposable Heroes of Hiphoprisy aren't just a band -- they're a coalition. At C.B.G.B. on Wednesday night, the group included a rapper who sometimes sang, a drummer, a guitarist with jazz leanings, a keyboardist who also slammed metal on metal like an industrial rocker, and an offstage crew that played backup tapes and projected supertitles above the stage.

As the lineup suggests, the band has broad ambitions. Michael Franti, its vocalist, looks to both Chuck D. of Public Enemy and the songwriter Gil Scott-Heron as models, delivering mid-tempo raps and ballads. Rono Tse, on keyboards, and Mr. Franti were both members of the Beatnigs, a well-regarded San Francisco Bay Area band.

The Heroes' songs have agitprop messages that couldn't be more politically correct. Mr. Franti denounces racism, homophobia, education cuts and mass-media brainwashing; "Television, the Drug of the Nation" describes TV as "remote control over the masses."

The raps are the Disposable Heroes' best material, reflecting the sonic impact of Public Enemy with a combination of live and recorded drumbeats and effects. In "California Uber Alles," Mr. Franti envisioned the state under a dictator; "Famous and Dandy (Just Like Amos 'n' Andy)" criticized black performers who act out racist stereotypes. But some of the raps, like "Television," were closer to accompanied lectures than to hip-hop songs.

When the beat was strongest, Mr. Tse frequently left his keyboards to dance across the stage, with gestures that combined break-dancing and acting out of lyrics. He would also bash metal chains against a steel shelf or puff steam from a fire extinguisher, to good theatrical effect.

The ballads, however, weren't intimate or seductive. In "Music and Politics," Mr. Franti offered self-criticism of his personality flaws, and tried to get the audience to sing on the awkward line "If ever I were to stop thinking about music and politics."

Like many other Bay Area bands, the Disposable Heroes of Hiphoprisy try manfully to shatter categories, and its ambitions are promising. But except for the better hip-hop songs, for now the results sound didactic rather than musically necessary.